


Books, Battered and Bound, Vices

by lightmyway



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Suptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 22:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20956268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightmyway/pseuds/lightmyway
Summary: How much can one simple touch do between a man and his angel?





	Books, Battered and Bound, Vices

**Author's Note:**

> Suptober Day 4,7,8

The pile in front of him was growing with every hour that passed. And yet there was no end in sight. With a giant huff, he shoved the stack closest to him. It toppled from the table in a giant cacophony. The other inhabitant of the room remained stoically silent. The only sign he noticed was the almost imperceptible lift an eyebrow. Shoving the next pile to the floor, earned him a glare. Piercing blue eyes landed on him and his breath caught. He waited, not exactly sure what he was hoping for with his childish actions. He knew somehow whatever it was would not disappoint. The longer he waited the more he shifted uncomfortably. Dean had thought after all these years he would be used to being the central focus of that intense stare. He was sadly mistaken. One look from Cas could still bring him to his knees. His heart beat loudly, and his breath grew erratic. And the smug look on Castiel’s face grew. There was little Dean could do but hold the angel’s gaze.

He breathed a sigh of relief, tempered with regret, when Cas looked back down at the book in front of him. His own eyes finally trailed away, taking in the mess he had made of the floor. He leaned down to pick up the closest book when a firm hand grasped his bicep. It sent a tingle down his arm as sense memory took over. It was the place the angel had gripped him tight. The spot he marked Dean’s body when he pulled him from hell. The connection he felt with Cas was always strongest in these moments. It was how he knew the angel would always choose him. That even when Dean was being rude or petulant or spiteful, Cas would stand at his side. They may fight and yell and hurt each other, but one touch on that spot, and it all went away.

As now, when Dean was so frustrated and battered. So broken and so torn. He knew one touch was all it would take to calm the demons. It was only then Dean could see a way forward. He could see the benefit of the books in front of him. He could accept the hours of research in front of him. He could find solace in the quiet space around him and the angel at his side. He could see the path to saving Sam without sacrificing himself or the angel he loved.

Instead of bending down and picking up the remaining books, he stood up and pulled Cas into a hug. He let him, finally, heal the bruises and deep gashes. Hours of pain he tortured himself with were gone in a rush of cool grace. The last vestiges of his wounds clung to his mind, ever present, even in the wake of Cas’s touch. He could not let go of the moment he failed his brother. The moment the witch tossed him aside as if he weighed nothing. The way the world around faded to black as the glass shattered around him and the fragments pierced his already damaged body. He did not remember the moment Sam disappeared or Cas carrying him away. He did not remember much of the previous night as he drowned himself in liquor. It was, so often, the only thing he could find to keep him sane. But maybe, just maybe, he could let himself have another.

This touch, these arms, the power and tenderness in each movement, the safety and comfort only he elicited. His angel. As he sank further into their embrace, Dean thought,_ I had it all along. I only needed to reach for it._


End file.
